How Will You Repay Him?
by Finn The Moon
Summary: A little pwp that takes place after Shiizakana. Will and Hannibal get lusty and violent in Will's work shed.


They heaved the body onto a handmade wooden table with a thud.

Will backed away, His breath a translucent cloud of steam in the chill of the winter night as he took in the picture gracefully unfolding in front of him.

Moonlight poured in from between the slats in the ceiling, dripping down thick sheets of hanging plastic and cutting into the walls and floor with chains laced through the rafters. Strange, black shapes crawled over reminisce of projects much less gruesome than the one he was currently taking on. He pictured dust particles floating on beams of sunlight. He could smell motor oil and metal. This simple structure had served as a sanctuary for so long, but tonight it was a world he didn't recognize.

"It feels like I'm looking through a cloudy window into a past life."

Hannibal glanced up from skillfully undressing the lifeless body laid out before him, watching Will run a hand down the draped plastic.

"In our constant evolution, we must occasionally leave pieces of ourselves behind when they no longer suit us." The doctor folded Randall Tier's last article of clothing neatly, topping the pile he had made before stepping to Will's work bench and placing it down. Reaching for the wall behind it, he flipped the switch there and casually began removing his coat, tie, and suit jacket. Light flooded the small area they had sectioned off from a long florescent bulb mounted above the work bench. The night beyond was now a bottomless, black void.

Hannibal rejoined the table as will stepped away. The taller man reached up and snatched one of the chains just above his head. It unraveled from a pulley system tucked away in the shadows of the ceiling and he made delicate work of wrapping the slack around Randall's ankles.

"Tell me, Will, what piece of yourself are you leaving here?" He watched Hannibal step away from the body before hitting a toggle protruding from his work bench to activate the pulley system. Randall's corpse jumped and jerked as it was dragged into the air, then calmed- swaying slowly to the quieting rattle of chains when he was completely suspended.

Will listened to the low groan of the rafters as he closely inspected an array of tools and blades both hanging and scattered on the work bench, running his fingers over each of them lovingly before moving onto the next.

"I'm not sure. Anymore, there are so many 'pieces' I could do without." He lingered on a large fishing knife a bit longer than the rest, brushing over the grooves in its stainless steel handle.

"Then I should hope none of those expendable pieces contain your marvelous taste." Will took the compliment by plucking the fishing knife from its place and turning to Hannibal. He didn't look up from the blade as he made his way back.

"It might have to do with taste…I feel hungry. Unsatisfied with the suddenly bland 'flavors of the week'." The lines in Hannibal's face darkened as he rounded the table to stand next to his counterpart.

"I fully support the expansion of your palette, but less impressive confections can serve as a grounding contrast for the truly succulent ones life has to offer."

Will could feel heat radiating from the Lithuanian as he drew closer. The younger of the two tightened his grip on the knife he was holding while he looked over the body hanging above the table.

Bruises and pooling blood blossomed like misshapen orchids over his flesh. Empty, glassy eyes reflected specks of the brown flakes crowding his nose and matting his hair. He was an abandoned husk made of intricately crafted insides waiting to rot. He was a portrait of human mortality and Will found it tragic considering Randall had never seen himself as human.

He swallowed the lump in his throat and finally replied.

"But what if no other meal could compare?"

The brunette's hands and voice shook when he lifted the knife to the corpse's exposed throat. His heart was racing again. The tiny world they had created was getting fuzzy at the edges, overloading his senses. He wasn't sure if his composure would come undone when he slipped the blade in and the thought was worrisome- especially here and now. Especially with smoke lingering so close.

Will gasped when a hot burst of air rolled over his ear and down his neck. Hannibal was behind him now, grasping the younger man's trembling fist with one hand and firmly holding Randall's head in place by the hair atop his head with the other.

"Then I must ask," Will was ridged in attempting to remain focused against him.

"What could be so decadent that you are willing to forsake all previous fancies for just a taste?"

The doctor let the question hang in the air. His grip on Will hardened and with a single, forceful lunge, he pushed the hand in his forward, shoving the blade into the dead man's neck just below the ear. Blood oozed from the puncture, spitting crimson onto their hands. Suddenly the world was spinning.

Will shuddered, arching his back on the man pressed to him. Hannibal's lips brushed his ear and the empath could have sworn by the shape of his mouth he was grinning.

Will closed his eyes and behind them, he could see himself leaping through the snow. He could feel the warmth pouring out of Buster onto his clothes and the long, steel barrel of his gun in his other hand. The door slammed shut behind him when he finally made it to the house and soon he was shrouded in self-induced darkness. His boots guided him through the shadows in an eerie silence before an explosion of shattering glass shook the house. The vision became a blur of images burning passed him fueled by something primal and malicious. There was a still moment in all the chaos that he took in greedily. It was Hannibal laying beneath him, head snapping back and forth under a series of blows. He could see that thin mouth under all the blood. He could see the same smirk he imagined the doctor was wearing now and the question was ringing in his ears. _What could be so decadent?_

Something in him shifted and he took control of their conjoined hands. Hannibal put up no resistance when his patient ripped the knife sideways.

"This." The word left Will as a whisper before filling the room to serve as an echo behind such a mesmerizing sight.

Randall's throat opened in a wide, red smile. Blood rushed from his lifeless body in thick, spurting ribbons, tearing out of him like fireworks. Steam rose from the wound and Will could hardly believe the deeper parts of his prey were still so warm.

"And what is 'this' to you, Will?" the words were still close enough to be hot against the shell of his ear and Graham leant into them. His voice was precise and intimate in answering.

"Its control…consumption…" His lips took on a sad smile and his brow furrowed. He couldn't look away from Randall.

"It's connection." Will finished. Hannibal inspected him with a look that was a phantom of wonder. He lifted a blood soaked hand to Will's cheek, turning the younger man to face him. The touch was welcoming and tender.

"It's divinity." The blonde ran his thumb gently down the jawline against his palm.

"And you wear it so well." Will gave into the rare circumstance when he was comfortable to meet the doctor's gaze. For just a moment, he let himself fall into the unreadable pits that more and more often had been prying into his very soul- shamelessly unmasked in observing him with disturbing curiosity.

He was never certain what he saw there when he dared to look, but something buried in the back of his mind found a relieving familiarity in it. Perhaps that was the dangerous part of looking- it inspired a new way of _seeing._

A wisp of Hannibal's breath teased his lips with moist heat and he couldn't help but let them part.

He drew closer to the doctor almost subconsciously. Their lips brushed and soon Will was kissing him with a soft and careful mouth. He lifted his free hand and placed it on Hannibal's hip while the older man's arm coiled around him like a snake.

There was no discernable thought or intent behind his actions. It was a mimicking for the sake of mental chess that was slowly becoming a habit. He was thoughtlessly inciting chaos to sate his curiosity and somewhere beyond that he fought with wordless emotion. It was looking and discovering a new way of seeing.

But any enjoyment he got from sated curiosity left a stinging chatter in his head. A choir of righteous logic and bitter rage sang hymns of past discrepancies between his ears. They sounded to the tune of fevered nightmares and lost time- to a cage and the broken memories stuffed under a flashing light. They sang of Abigail.

Will's hand tensed on the knife still sticky and warm in his grip. His brow furrowed as he brought it up in one swift motion with the intent to plunge it into the taller man's ribs just under the arm that was so lovingly holding his face. But the blade never made contact. A strong fist had gathered up his shirt and spun him on his heel. Now Hannibal was wrapped snuggly around him from behind- one arm pinning Will's elbows to his sides while the hand previously on his cheek twisted around his throat.

Hannibal sighed.

"Even if I admire your unpredictability, you shouldn't have done that. The quiet arguing in your head makes you sloppy." The informant began to laugh while he struggled.

"Just in case part of me is right, I wouldn't want to lose sleep over missed opportunities, would I, doctor?" The hold on Him grew a bit softer.

"You lose sleep, Will, because the person you've spent a lifetime striving to be is dying. Falling by the wayside in the brilliant awakening of you true self." Hannibal dug his fingers into either side of Will's jaw and forced him to look at Randall's lifeless form.

"But as many times as you've held a blade to what binds you, you refuse to cut yourself free of those 'unsavory confections'." Hannibal pressed his forehead to the brunette's temple and felt him shiver.

"Can you forgive me for forcing your hand?" A loud pop sounded in the quiet and Will screamed out in pain. His arm went limp at his side and Hannibal caught the knife he held before it could hit the ground. He let Will slip out of his embrace and crumple to the floor while he walked gingerly to the work bench to retrieve his tie.

Will was cradling his dislocated shoulder and struggling to get to his feet when the doctor was over him again, pulling him up by the wounded limb before taking ahold of his waist.

Hannibal lifted the empath effortlessly and placed him on the wooden table in a sitting position. He hit the surface of it with a splash, trying to catch up with his dizziness while he lashed out at the other man clumsily. Hannibal took Will's good arm as if he had offered it and began to wrap the tie around his wrist, securing the other end to Randall's gapping throat. Will's vision started to work its way closer to clarity when he felt a still steady stream of blood pool at the icy flesh now pressed to his hand before trickling down his arm.

He watched Hannibal undo the buttons on his shirt and his breath hitched when the garment fell open, exposing the heavy rise and fall of his bare chest.

"Are you going to kill me?" Hannibal looked up at him through a few stray hairs in his face while he placed Will's socks and boots aside.

"I'm going to praise you." Will's confusion was furthered when Hannibal undid his belt and hooked his fingers in the rim of his slacks and underwear. He flinched at the unexpected skin to skin contact but his face remained bitter.

"The same way I'm supposed to 'praise' Randall Tier?" Hannibal pulled away all but the empath's shirt and discarded the clothing before standing to meet his seething eyes.

"No." the doctor placed his hands on Will's knees and parted them before sliding between his legs. He seemed to inspect the long, thin lines and tiny splatter of old blood filling the pale expanse of the informant's nearly nude frame. He cupped Will's face again as he spoke.

"Tonight will be one of worship. An unveiling of the splendor you have withheld from yourself and the world as well as the adoration inspired by witnessing something so exquisite."

His hand left Will's cheek to trace a soft and lazy path down his captive's throat, chest and stomach. Burning fingers drew circles on his hip bones and incited chills when they made it to his thighs. Will closed his eyes as his thoughts all became too slick to hold onto long enough for comprehension. He felt the doctor's lips pucker at the mound of scar tissue on his shoulder courtesy of Jack Crawford. The mouth tasting him became more vigorous in its efforts, sucking at the old injury while thin finger nails made red crescents on his thighs.

The informant opened his mouth to protest but an involuntary groan was all that left him when those scalding lips began to travel. Even as he sat bare in the dead of winter, he was burning now. Hannibal's tongue made painfully intricate designs up and down Will's torso, grazing his teeth over goosebumps and riding out the younger man's shaking with long, sweet kisses.

Will was starting to panic. That something buried in the back of his head was salivating- drowning out any chance at logical cognition. But it wasn't about sex in the sense of simple physical satisfaction. It was a tediously constructed ritual. It was a masterpiece of spiritual composition and Will was the instrument it was written for. Hannibal played him as if he had been doing so for years. Each second of barely there caress and every level of feverish contact beyond that was a wide range of unimaginable sensations. They were strings to be plucked for the sake of the beautiful serenade resounding through every inch of him.

He was experiencing worship from a man with no prayers for the god he holds in such high regards…

Will hated the feeling of flattery that washed over him.

He jolted unexpectedly, gasping as his eyes flew open in alarm. Those fiery lips found the place between his thigh and growing arousal, sucking at the stretch of skin harshly. Will's hips jumped reflexively, but they were held firmly in place. He looked down to see the doctor pulling away, licking his lips at the taste of the informant as if he were an expertly prepared meal. Will's now swollen erection twitched at the sight and he blushed in embarrassment, unable to meet the maroon gaze on him.

"H-Hannibal you can't-" The Lithuanian cut him off while he slithered up from between his trembling legs, their lips only a breath apart once more.

"You want me to stop?"

"I-" Will choked on a gasp when Hannibal's hand found his arousal and gave it a few slow, purposeful strokes.

"Or are you simply insistent on punishing yourself for any delight you might take in this?"

Will was trying to find the words for a comeback but the only voice in his head was Hannibal's urging shameless indulgence. His brow furrowed and he shook his head.

"N-no-" The doctor sank back to his knees in front of the younger man.

"I only want what's best for you, Will." Without warning, he took the informant's cock between his lips. He sucked lovingly at the head, lapping up every drop of precum there before pulling the entire thing into his mouth.

Will was biting his lip to the point of breaking it open just to keep his moans stifled. Hannibal lifted his head, pulling off Will maddeningly slow. His teeth were dragging over his shaft ever so lightly grazing the veins and velvety flesh at the mercy of his jaw while his burning breath washed over his patients groin in slow bursts. When the doctor was again left cradling nothing but the head of the weeping organ, he tightened his lips. His mouth slid down Will's cock only a bit faster than he had the first time. His throat and tongue and lips sucked and licked and puckered against Will, working in perfect unison. Hannibal repeated the process over and over, going faster each time until his head was bobbing at a steady rhythm.

Will could feel himself getting close no matter how hard he tried to fight it and he continued to fight no matter how cloudy his resolve to do so became.

Hannibal felt him tense and hummed approvingly with his nose against Will's pelvis and his cock nestled in his throat. The empath convulsed under him. He had never been so close to such an intense climax. He was melting from the inside out on the brink of ecstasy and he was losing any grip he had left on his mind.

Then suddenly the heat around him was gone. Will whimpered and the doctor rose to swallow the sound. Hannibal tasted like musk and hunger, but the kiss was still something polite until Will decided otherwise. He crashed against the taller man's teeth, lapping at his swollen lips before sinking his teeth into the bottom one. Hannibal opened his eyes while his lover sucked at the broken flesh he had created. The sensation was surprising, but that was what made Will Graham so fascinating- he wasn't so much a predictable, pliable being so much as he was a series of unknown chemical reactions. It gave Hannibal a rush that was not only new, but something completely beyond him. Unfortunately, such rare instances of excitement were a threat to his perfectly composed demeanor… which proved to be more problematic for those around him than for himself.

The doctor snapped back at Will, ripping into the skin between his teeth, receiving a low growl and resounding bite in response. The kiss became a battle for dominance and Hannibal was astounded by the fight in his counterpart. Even in such a vulnerable state, the monster in Will was barring teeth and his challenge didn't go without causing a stir in his captor.

Will felt the tie binding his good arm to Randall Tier loosen and slip away. Before he could react, Hannibal was grabbing his hips and roughly pulling them out from under him. The informant's back hit the table hard. Randall was above him now, the steady streams of blood previously running down Will's back to cover the table and pool beneath it were falling onto his face. He snapped his head to the side and closed his eyes but it didn't stop the blood from seeping into his mouth and nose, making him choke on the congealing liquid. He reached out blindly as he tried to sit up, but a forceful palm pushed his wrist against his chest, keeping him pinned to the table. There was a rustle of clothing then he could feel Hannibal's skin against his own between his thighs. Without warning, the doctor's cock was pushing passed the taunt ring of muscle at his blood covered entrance. It was as if he were being ripped in two from the inside. Hannibal filled him to the hilt, stopping only when his hips were cradling Will's backside and holding his spread legs.

The empath wiggled on him in attempts to escape the crippling pain dulling his senses.

"G-god it hurts." His voice was garbled with blood and panic. Hannibal couldn't help but enjoy the sight of the man helpless and completely at his mercy for just a moment. A shudder surged through him and he wasn't sure if the reaction was due to Will struggling on his cock or if it was simply watching him do so that was so arousing.

Hannibal bent down and kissed the hand he was holding in his as he rocked back slowly, licking the blood from his lips.

"Just like your 'flavors of the week', pain serves as a grounding contrast for what lies at the other end of the spectrum. You must see your suffering as a gift. Your body certainly does." Hannibal dipped his fingers in the wetness leaking onto Will's stomach from his still engorged erection. The blood covering Will mixed with the pearly substance and Hannibal lifted it to his mouth, tasting his patient a second time while he pushed back into him carefully.

Will gritted his teeth when he felt the blonde begin to move.

"N-no- it's not for me- it's a gift you're g-giving yourself." Hannibal smirked knowingly.

"I cannot deny the self-indulgence in worship. People pay tribute to God for reasons beyond their love for him." Hannibal did his best to keep his voice level as his thrusts grew harsher, Will's body sucking him in and getting hotter around him. Will responded with a strained whisper.

"What reasons?" The pressure on his chest trapping his hand there shifted. Hannibal pulled Will up from the table and the informant hissed as his dislocated shoulder was smashed against the other man. The doctor kissed Will passionately, licking Randall's blood from his teeth and wiping it out of his eyes with a clean sleeve.

Hannibal wrapped his arms tight around the smaller form, holding them together and motionless while Will fought the sticky entanglement of his lashes to see again.

The doctor withdrew from his lips to speak quiet and deep against them.

"They pay tribute with the hopes of having their love returned." Will managed to open his eyes and he would have been lying to himself if he denied how stunning the sight was.

Hannibal's hair was a disheveled mess laying across his forehead and reaching down to shadow his eyes. His clothes were wrinkled and stained with blotches of blood big and small. Will could see the tension of his muscles under his pressed shirt and the thin sheen of sweat coating his taunt, olive skin. He watched the thick vein drumming against the Lithuanian's throat rapidly and it made his own heart skip a beat.

Will peered into his eyes and the lush orbs nearly swallowed him whole. Bones and all. Something otherworldly and powerful was smoldering there, clouding him with unescapable intoxication.

He flinched as Hannibal lifted him, sliding his cock almost completely free of Will's body before letting the empath drop back onto him.

Will gasped, his head falling onto his lover's shoulder while he clutched to him with his good arm and arched on him hard. The pain that had been pulsing through the lower part of his body was evolving into something else. The ache bloomed into a white hot burning in the pit of his stomach. The sensation pooled at the center of him before dispersing through every inch of him like a pulse of electricity.

Hannibal repeated the motion, bouncing the younger man against his hips, pausing for a few agonizing seconds between each thrust.

Will clawed at him, taking a fist full of his shirt and squeezing it with white knuckles. He couldn't stop the moan bubbling up from his throat but he did his best to bury the sound in the nape of the doctor's neck.

Hannibal shivered at the hot panting mouth on him and sank his nails into the globes of flesh in his hands. When he thought Will's reactions to such stimulus couldn't get any sweeter, the informant mumbled a demand into his shirt collar.

"Don't stop." Hannibal bit back a groan, unsure of how much longer he could keep control of himself. Then it didn't matter.

Will began to roll his hips violently, lifting his head to moan into the doctor's mouth between harsh, insistent kisses.

" _Please_ , don't stop." Hannibal growled a word in a foreign tongue with the same cadence someone would use to swear under his breath. The older man pushed his tongue into Will's mouth, tasting the remanence of his plea as he slammed up into the empath mercilessly and Will ground down to meet every thrust. Hannibal filled him, each stroke hitting the spot inside him that boiled his blood and sent sparks of white light over the backs of his eye lids. His cock was twitching from the friction of being trapped between their torsos and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.

Not even ending a life had made him feel so connected to another person. This was something lost in translation when love became a word. This was an unspoken understanding of more than just favorable attributes. It was more than a tolerance for the distasteful parts of another- it was unconditional adoration for all the blemishes and bruises behind the mask of civilized humanity. It was forgiveness and appreciation for the contrast.

Will let go of his lover, falling backwards and out of their kiss. Before he could hit the table, he latched onto Randall. His fingernails broke the skin of the corpse's stomach, getting deeper into the meat of him as the weight of his own body pulled his uninjured arm down. He made the fresh wounds deep, jagged gashes on his victim that ended when his fingertips became lodged under a rib in the slender frame. He took a second to catch his breath, cheek to cheek with the lifeless form as he met the blonde's stare.

His look was one of anticipated curiosity and Will let it linger while he listened to the rattling of chains. Then he was wrapping his legs tight around the older man, drawing him in deep while using Randall as leverage to move.

He rolled on the thick member inside him slowly, his eyes glassy as he spoke in a low and quaking tone.

"I want you to see me…to see how my love is returned." His movements became more pronounced as his pace started to build. Hannibal groaned and clawed at the underside of the thighs holding him so snuggly.

"Show me how you pray." It was a demanding snarl the empath knew couldn't be ignored.

Will crashed down against him. He was moaning and whining, riding the doctor madly and doing everything he could to keep his eyes open through the rapture of it all. Hannibal returned the favor with a bit more ease.

He stayed fixed on the younger man as he met him with a thrust each time Will fully impaled himself. He held onto the smaller man, revealing in the feel of sweat on his skin and the desperate writhing in his muscles and bones. He saw passed the mess of dark curls into the blush on his face and the hunger in his heavy-lidded eyes and the need whimpering from his swollen lips. He couldn't recall ever seeing something so beautiful.

Hannibal reached out and ran one of his hands over the top of the table. He lifted the appendage, dripping onto Will's stomach as he wrapped a blood soaked palm around his swollen member, lavishing it with full, fast strokes. The empath cried out, his fingers nearly cracked the rib he was clutching as he bucked up into the doctor's hand. The fever of the moment crawled into his head and the picture it painted was too real not to leave him in question.

Will imagined their intertwined bodies melding together as they built transcendence between them. The blackness looming passed this moment began to creep in. It rained down from the rafters and ate holes in the hanging plastic wet with every sound they shared. The blood covering and surrounding them took on a glow as if it were black water reflecting from a raging, unseen fire. Embers swirled in the shine of it like tiny, red stars and Will could feel it burning them both alive. His body curled above the flames but there was no escaping fate and circumstance.

Will turned and buried his flushed face against Randall's. His mouth opened in a scream and closed on the flesh just under his victim's occipital bone. His teeth sank into his cheek effortlessly thanks to the earlier assault of Will's fists and the meat was cool and slimy on his tongue. A few thin webs of blood stretched down to kiss his chest when he tore the bite free, mingling with the white ropes of his climax as they shot out of him.

Hannibal was lost in the display- too fixated on his lover's gory mouth and priceless expression to hold onto any control when Will's orgasm hit both of them. The walls of his lover's body tightened around him drastically and he drove into the heat as deeply as he could while he struck out at his counterpart. He crushed Will's throat in his palm, pulling the empath up and colliding with his lips around the mound of tissue between his teeth. Hannibal's release racked his body, forcing him to arch as he filled the form pressed to him.

The two lazily pulled the meat apart in tandem Hannibal was wise enough to know that this openness between them was as temporary as it was abrupt for the time being. He took in the feeling of Will's hand weightless and slow while it stroked his side. He relished the flavor of his mouth and the sound of his breathing while the piece of Randall they shared grew smaller. In their euphoria, he was the one to fall into his imagination in hopes of giving this bliss further longevity.

They were together in his dining room, dressed in blood and sweat. He could see the reflection of firelight waltzing over the polished finish of the table and lapping at the crystal wine glasses. He could picture the glow it left in his eyes while he watched Will cut into something succulent and raw before he raised it to his lips. A genuine smile crossed his lover's face as he chewed and lifted his head, returning Hannibal's gaze. Their eyes met without restriction or fear or any veil of humanity.

'Divine' was exactly the way to describe it.

"Will," the informant glanced up at him in the real world.

"There's work to be done."


End file.
